


Transference

by hbomba



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Fridget, Lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 02:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17973083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hbomba/pseuds/hbomba
Summary: The answer to Franky’s question: (“what are you afraid of?”) from 3x8 “Goldfish”





	Transference

You can't blame gravity for falling in love.--Albert Einstein  
__

_“What are you afraid of?”_ Franky had asked her as she walked away.

The answer was simple. Bridget Westfall was afraid of the feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. The feeling that pushed on her ribcage and made her heart race when Franky Doyle was near. She was afraid of lust that burgeoned months ago in the exercise yard as Franky lifted weights in her tank top, tattoos aglow in the midday sun. But most of all, she was afraid of the love that she felt beginning shortly thereafter.

Up to that point she could deny her sexual desires easily, but the more she learned about Franky, the deeper they delved into her psyche, the more her heart began to ache. Bridget had seen and heard it all during her tenure in the correctional system and surprisingly no one had touched her heart the way Franky had.

She was whip smart and a real self-starter--probably out of necessity more than anything else. Motivated when it suited her, she excelled at anything she put her mind to and Bridget was awed by her resilience as a child and an adult.

Bridget remained surprised by her entrepreneurial turn after she was locked up--running drugs and managing the women as Top Dog after Jacs Holt’s murder, her punishments were ruthless not unlike Jacs’, the difference was Franky couldn’t bear to watch the results.

Posturing at its finest, Franky was the person that everyone else needed her to be and slowly, during their time together, Bridget was uncovering the person Franky really was and it was intoxicating. She didn’t sugarcoat anything, something Bridget found refreshing, not because other inmates did, but because Franky was insightful. She had a special awareness about herself, the other inmates, and staff that most people lacked. She was a student of human nature, her childhood made that a necessity. She wasn’t raised so much as she was terrorized until she found her own way. Because of that start, Franky was incredibly perceptive. She sussed out Bridget’s sexuality almost immediately, every lewd comment was pointed, hitting the mark each time.

It wasn’t that Bridget wasn’t used to the attention, she was an attractive woman and it wasn’t uncommon for an inmate to take a shine to her. It was the nature of the job. When she got close to someone’s emotions they began to associate her with the safety of the space she provided them to air their feelings. The difference this time was that she had fallen for the inmate, not the other way around.

She was afraid she wouldn’t be enough for Franky, that she’d fall short and hurt her and prove everything Franky already thought about the world to be true. She wasn’t sure how she’d talked herself into thinking she couldn’t handle the emotions of one woman, but Franky was a powder keg and she’d bared her soul--good and bad--and all Bridget wanted to do was to see her fly beyond the prison walls and reach her potential.

She wanted to be the mentor she’d recommended for Franky and show her that life wasn’t always a cruel and unfair place. But more than that she wanted to show her that it could be so much more than those things--that the best things in life weren’t always pilfered or schemed for, and that drug money couldn’t buy them either.

It would have been simple if Bridget just wanted to fuck her. she could get over it and move past her feelings, but it was more complicated than that. She wanted to show her tenderness. She wanted to make love to her and hold her tenderly afterwards and she felt like a damned fool for it. That, and she was fairly certain that Franky wasn’t the sort anyways.

She imagined Franky as the type to fuck and run and Bridget didn’t think she was likely to have changed that part of her in their sessions. Bridget never let herself consider what Franky might want from her because if she did, she’d have to posit whether or not Franky would fuck her and run, too.

The inalienable truth, however, was that she knew Franky did want to fuck her and Bridget knew that if she let her it wouldn’t just be a one-time thing. For that reason alone, she couldn’t acknowledge Franky’s question. She couldn’t tell Franky that she wanted her like she wanted Bridget because she knew if she did they’d be in the walk-in cooler with their hands in each other’s pants without delay. And sure, there were worse things at stake, but getting fired because she fucked an inmate in the prison refrigerator would not be a good look for her next job interview.

Truth was, she was cutting Franky loose at a crucial time in their doctor-patient bond but protecting Franky’s parole was more important than what she’d say at her post-Wentworth job interview. Still, she’d hurt the other woman with her rejection and Franky didn’t hide her hurt very well--choosing anger to express herself rather than show her pain.

And Bridget knew she deserved it.

Every bit of anger, hurt, and betrayal she felt for being brushed off and put on someone else’s schedule was pouring off of Franky in the kitchen. It was the end of her shift and she was probably tired, Bridget thought. But she knew. Bridget knew she deserved it.

They were alone, painfully so, and close enough to do something really inadvisable so Bridget turned and walked away. She could have kissed her, let Franky push her against the cold, stainless steel table and take what she pleased and made a Very Bad Decision but instead she walked away and left Franky wondering how far she might let her take it, how much she wanted her too, or if she would ever get to explore any of it in the future.

And Bridget was just as anxious to find out as Franky. She walked away slowly, feeling like prey given a pass because the predator was too tired or full to chase, but she knew better. Franky was no predator and she was not prey. There would be no bloody finale, but rather a solo celebration in the cell block tonight. Bridget had shown her intentions and Franky would be waiting for resolution, whether that be to fuck and run or something greater.


End file.
